


Can't Let You See

by TheCityLightShow



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Identity Porn, M/M, Tony Angst, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony is Iron Man but nobody knows, Tony-centric, [No Actual Porn]
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-29 02:13:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6354673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCityLightShow/pseuds/TheCityLightShow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite what the media says, Tony Stark is no stranger to love – actual love, he means, not just lust and loneliness numbed with alcohol and a warm body. (He's all <i>too</i> familiar with that.) </p><p>He loves being Iron Man, being an Avenger. Even if no one else knows that it's him. </p><p>Most of all, Tony Stark loves Steve Rogers: and ain't that the kicker? Because Steve Rogers – All-American, patient-yet-snarky, inherently good and sinfully handsome Steve Rogers – is in love with Iron Man.</p><p>Some days, Tony really hates his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Let You See

Despite what the media says, Tony Stark is no stranger to love – actual love, he means, not just lust and loneliness numbed with alcohol and a warm body. (He's all _too_ familiar with that.)

He loved his mother, and the way her fingers danced across the keys when she would spare a moment to teach him the piano, how soft her voice was when she'd comfort him in Italian. He loved – still loves – Jarvis, his unwavering loyalty, his endless patience, and a love for a child to whom he was more father than butler. He loves Rhodey like a brother, and he knows now that he loves Pepper like a sister – even when she tried to stop him drinking so much coffee.

He also loves his jobs. CEO was a position he'd hated to hold, shouldered when it had crashed on him and then never really regained his footing; Pepper, however, thrives in it, and now Tony can simply _create_. Though, of course, most of his creations now go to his second job – and nobody except Pep knows he even _has_ that job.

He loves being Iron Man, being an Avenger.

He hates that to the public eye, he's merely the benefactor, the host, the quartermaster. Oh, he knows that it's necessary, for the reputations of both Stark Industries and the Avengers alike. Tony is the guy the media loves to hate. SI can't have another stock drop, or they'll kick him from the board – he may hate that it's still necessary, but it keeps the rest of those old bastards in check and prevents them from straying back into the weapons business he dragged them out of. The Avengers need public support – need to be trusted to do what's right, to save lives; what they _don't_ need is the sort of shitstorm that the media love to throw him into.

After New York – and thank god he'd woken up before they could figure out a way to remove the faceplate – he'd even offered the Avengers somewhere to stay. Those first six months had been easy, wonderful, and miraculously free of slip-ups.

He loves the team. He won't ever say it: they can't find out that their benefactor is anything but the arrogant, detached, sarcastic ass of a genius he pretends to be (has made himself into over the last three months, because _fuck, why did he call Steve “winghead” out of the suit?!_ ).

But Bruce is witty and forgiving, resigned to isolation and stubborn in his routines. He's open like a book as he chooses and can throw science back at Tony like Natasha can throw daggers, and Tony's struck everyday by the _understanding_ that passes between them, a friendship Tony would have bought the moon for if Pepper would let him.

Thor – jovial and genuine, Asgardian Thor – can throw ideas at them both that the two would never have considered, with an insight that betrays his age in a way his eyes and his smile never do. His joy at simple Midgardian things might be child-like, but Tony loves to see it– loves knowing that smile is something he can cause.

The deadly beauty of Natasha is a more magnificent armour than anything Tony could ever build – he learns that she is not the Ice Queen he once claimed her to be. She's like him (a realisation that had come as a shock), but more regal; less arrogant, less insecure. Holds her emotions close to her chest and away from her face: a lady who knows her worth and doesn't need anyone else to see it. He admires her sharp and wicked sense of humour, and is insanely proud of the one and only time he made her laugh.

Clint, the archer, and as childish as Tony knows he can be too. The banter on comms might be easier than that in the Tower – but that's Tony's own doing, and he loves it all the same. Clint is skillful in his role as an Avenger, surprisingly intuitive, a man with a purpose, and could make Tony laugh for days if he'd let him.

It's things like that that makes Tony miss those first months before he'd fucked up like he did, like he's prone to do. Those months where Tony Stark was just as much a friend to the Avengers as Iron Man was: but he had to step back, had to recreate that distance because the risk was too high, the variables too hard to control. He couldn't risk them knowing, them seeing him as he is and kicking him off the team.

Most of all, Tony Stark loves Steve Rogers: and ain't that the kicker? Because Steve Rogers – All-American, patient-yet-snarky, inherently good and sinfully handsome Steve Rogers – is in love with Iron Man.

Some days, Tony really hates his life.

 

Today is one of those days.

1\. Steve had dragged him out of the workshop where he works – sleeps, eats, hides – when he can, saying it'd be good for Tony to take a break once in a while and spend some time with his– well, he'd said the word friends, but Tony hadn't let them be that in months.

2\. He'd sat on his own couch feeling like an outsider and twice nearly slipped up with Iron Man's nicknames for the team before the alarm had gone off. He'd muttered something about suiting up himself as he ran off, the comment about him merely _helping_ lost to the commotion.

3\. And now he's here.

The inside of the suit is warped (stupid fucking squid and it's stupid fucking tentacles) uncomfortable, but he's not bleeding, and the outside of the suit is blessedly undamaged: he'll get away with leaving medical and patching himself up in the lab. Except...

“What the hell were you _thinking_?!”

Steve is yelling at him, still in full Captain America mode, but he's taken off the cowl and the shield rests by the door and Tony can't help but notice the desperation in his tone. “You could've got yourself killed!” Actually, there was only a 23% chance of that happening, but he doesn't say it. He doesn't regret taking the hit for Steve; super-soldier or no, a tentacle at 60mph would've shattered his ribs at best, killed him at worst, and Tony has a suit that means only bruises. “You should have-” Tony can't stay silent to save his life.

“What? Let you take the hit? I'm in a metal suit of armour! I can – have – handled hits like that!” Emotion is bleeding out through the modulator, and fuck he should really shut up now, but it's spilling out because he's _tired of lying_. “I'm alive, Winghead – and you wouldn't've been. I can't let you die, Steve.” Steve's protests stop – whether at the seriousness in his voice or Iron Man's rare usage of Steve's first name, Tony doesn't know.

“And I can't watch you die either, Shellhead.” Tony smiles inside the suit, huffing a small laugh through the modulator and being insanely glad that Steve can't see his face. He bites back a joke about Steve not really seeing him and-

“Don't you trust me, Captain?”

-he asks softly, aiming for teasing and missing by a mile. He knows what he wants to do, what he would do in any other situation where they weren't Captain America and Iron Man.

“Of course I do.” Steve's reply comes without hesitation, honest and blinding, and Tony throws risk to the wind.

He moves slowly, giving Steve every chance to back away, to stop him, but Steve simply watches him with confusion and hope warring on his face. He covers Steve's eyes with a gauntleted hand, resting the cool metal carefully against his forehead, and lifts up the faceplate. Steve can't see, but the sharp intake of breath means he knows what the sound is- Tony kisses him before he can speak.

Steve's lips are soft and warm against his own chapped ones, quickly responding to the touch, soft and sweet and slow, everything Tony had dreamt that a first kiss with Steve Rogers might be. It takes a level of self-control Tony wasn't aware he had until that moment to pull away, to leave his hand in place until the faceplate has shut.

He steps back reluctantly, the distance between them again seeming larger than before. When Steve opens his eyes – _blue, blue, so very very blue and Tony wishes he was allowed to lose himself in them –_ they're tear-filled. Tony wants to smile, crack a joke and sever the tension, but god, he'd made Steve cry. Steve opens his mouth to say something, but words aren't coming. “I'll see you later, Cap.” Tony murmurs, and even through the modulator he sounds wrecked.

He leaves before Steve can ask him to stay.

 

“ _Sir, Captain Rogers is enquiring after Iron Man. He's stood outside the door."_

Tony looked up from where he was sat, against the other side of the aforementioned door with his knees pulled up to his chest. “Tell him he's not here, J.” He was too sober to deal with Steve now. He'd fled down to the workshop with the intention of getting extremely drunk and forgetting – if only for an hour – that he'd done something so stupid.

But fuck, the lines are blurring now more than they ever have, and Tony couldn't bring himself to touch the glass of whiskey he'd poured. What if there was a call, and he was drunk? He'd never ever forgive himself, more than he already couldn't.

“ _He asks if you can hear him._ ”

The question caught him off guard – Steve had never had any reservations about walking into the workshop unannounced and without explicit permission before, but that's not a question he wants an answer to.

“Put him through, but don't let him hear me.” His voice was barely above a whisper (not for the first time, he wondered what the fuck he's doing with his life) but Jarvis heard him and answers with an affirmative. There was a beat of silence, two, and then Steve's voice drifted through the workshop. Rough, like his throat was sore – had he been crying? Yelling?

“Uh, hey Tony, I was hoping you could pass a message onto Iron Man for me? Tell him that I'm not mad. That earlier was- nice. Um, and maybe you could get him to call me? I- I just want to- yeah. That's- it. Thank you. I'll just- go.”

Steve's footsteps echoed through the speaker as he retreated back up the stairs, and Tony is so glad he stopped crying in his teens because shit, shit shit shit, the fuck is going to happen now?

Yes, Tony is no stranger to love, and the way it hurts like a bitch.

 

This is why Tony can't have nice things.

The villain-of-the-week is a contact-only telepath with some form of telekinetic thing going. He's more powerful than they'd anticipated, and calling himself Neutronic. Tony would be laughing if the fucker didn't literally have his life in his hands.

The team are on the bridge behind him, silent and on edge – Neutronic has Tony held off the edge of the bridge and facing away, and he's talking and talking and Tony wishes he could turn off his thoughts because the hand thrust into the back of the armour and brushing against a rip in the flight suit means that this bastard can hear everything.

“How about it, Avengers? Do you want to see the man beneath the armour?” He's laughing, and Tony can feel the pressure on the helmet increase, like it's feeling for the joints and the release catch that Tony has never resented so much in his life. “He's begging me not to in that pretty little mind of his, all sorts of pleas he's coming up with too.” Another snigger, and Tony just wants to glance back and see Steve's face – because this is happening, and Tony might not be allowed to after this. “Oh! My, my,  _shellhead_ , you've kissed him and he STILL doesn't know that it's you?” And Neutronic laughs and the pressure is tight on the release catch at the back of his neck- “Let's fix that.”

Tony doesn't realise that he's shouting until his voice is no longer coming out through the modulator. He keeps his eyes closed, even as he's thrown back towards his team. He picks himself up with them shut, and prays that someone breaks the silence soon.

He wasn't expecting that person to be Clint.

“Oh thank fuck, it's somebody I like.” Tony opens his eyes and turns his shocked gaze on the archer – who's passing a very smug looking Natasha fifty dollars that he produced from god knows where. He carries on with his gaze – Thor is grinning at him.

“A worthy shield brother!” he declares, and Tony has no idea what his face must look like because suddenly he looks worried. “Anthony, are you well?”

“Why aren't you angry?” Neutronic steps forward then, confused and frustrated.

“Well, I am a little-” Clint starts, but Natasha elbows him in the ribs with a pointed look and takes over.

“-but it was a well-intended decision. Given how public his life is, and how tetchy the Stark Industries board are, it was a logical decision. I respect that, it must have been a difficult choice to make.” And there's a smile curling around the edge of her lips that Tony doesn't understand.

“And you, Captain?” Neutronic's voice is oily, and if Tony wasn't suddenly pinned under Steve's gaze, he'd hit him.

“Do I look mad?” He snaps at the wannabe-villain, but he breathes and carries on. “I'm angry that you took his choice away from him – but Tony Stark has been nothing but good to us, and as Iron Man has always been my best friend.” And then his face softens, and he smiles. “Honestly, I'm just glad I don't have to choose.” Those words are for him, Tony realises, and it restarts his brain.

He punches Neutronic in the face.

The man blinks in shock as his hands reach up to clutch his face, blood pouring from his nose. He loses his footing and stumbles over some rubble, falling on his ass. He lets out a whimper.

Tony scrambles over to his helmet, clunky in the suit; the team are going to make him talk about this, but his breath isn't coming in like it should be, he can't deal with this now. An awkward half wave and he shoves on the helmet, taking off before they can stop him.

 

They don't make him talk.

They don't come and drag him out of the lab.

They don't force him to go to medical.

They don't do anything that wouldn't normally happen.

 

Then he realises that Bruce is stood in the doorway to the lab.

“Bruce?” he asks, wary.

“The big guy approves.” Bruce tells him with a grin, and Tony relaxes slightly. “He also requests that you come up and join us for movie night. Clint's making Thor call in for Chinese.” He laughs as Tony nods slowly, stiffly, and then he realises that this _is_ unusual, that it's not normally Bruce.

“Why didn't Steve come down?” he asks before he can stop himself, and Bruce merely raises an eyebrow at him.

“Because he's there.” Bruce replies with a nod towards the couch, and Tony whirls.

“Jesus fuck, Steve, why didn't you say something?!” Tony demands, and he can hear Bruce laugh and tell them twenty minutes, but he can't look away.

Steve is laid out on Tony's couch, one hand holding a sketch book on his chest, the other loosely holding a charcoal pencil as he pets Dum-E on the head. He's grinning at Tony, smug and- and something else that Tony can't identify. “I like watching you work, no matter which job you're doing.” he replies simply, like that doesn't knock the wind out of Tony's sails. Tony is still stood by his desk, and he licks his lips. Looks away, looks back, and Steve is still there, still smiling.

“Do we- are we-” words fail him, but Steve seems to understand. He sets his sketch book aside and stands up, petting Dum-E again as he walks to stand in front of Tony.

“Do we need to talk?” Steve supplies, and Tony can only nod. “No, I don't think so. I'm not angry, I understand why you kept it a secret, and now we know... Can I ask why?” Tony knows that he's asking about the kiss, and so far the truth has been well received – Tony always was good at pushing his luck.

“Because I wanted to for a long time.” he confesses, and Steve's smile is somewhat unsure-

“Wanted?” he asks, voice quiet, and Tony knows his mistake.

“Want. Definitely want.” He corrects – and there is the blinding smile that Tony thinks could replace the sun and no one would think the world any darker. He leans forward then, kissing Tony without any warning, and this second kiss is so different than the first. Hot and desperate, teeth and tongue, need and _want_. It leaves Tony breathless, and when Steve pulls back he looks a little punch-drunk.Their foreheads rest together, and Tony can't look away from Steve's eyes and the sheer happiness there.

Steve takes his hand, twining their fingers together, and Tony knows that there's going to be a media shitstorm tomorrow (if there isn't already) and that Nick Fury is going to kill him if Pepper doesn't get there first – but it's all okay, because he's got Steve.

“Shall we?” Steve asks eventually, stepping back but not letting go, gesturing towards to door. Tony smiles at him.

“Definitely.”

 

_Steve is still holding his hand when they get to the common floor, and tugs him down onto the couch with him. Natasha hands out the take-away –Clint'd ordered Tony's favourite, and she hands it to him with the words “Kung Pao Chicken and Star Wars Episode IV for our favourite Shellhead”, grinning as she sits on the couch behind where Clint sits on the floor. No one says anything else, not until Tony starts throwing out sarcastic commentary – but then it's only a “fuck, you're worse than on comms”, and it's thrown with a grin._

_Maybe he can have nice things._

 

[You have 19 new messages and 6 missed calls from **Pep-Pot.** ]

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a month out from starting my A-Level exams... so if you don't hear from me until Summer, I hope any exams y'all take go well, that life is kind and that Civil War doesn't kill you. Love y'all!


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